When He Didn't Feel Right
by xXKimiko SakakiXx
Summary: It was all in the plan: go to school, graduate with an acceptable degree, find a suitable girlfriend, marry her, and start a family. Nanase Haruka was well on his way to complete it. But when it came to the last important step, he hesitated. He rebuked. He felt wrong. Maybe because a certain Makoto wasn't included in the original plan. MakoHaru.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club and Sony.**

Warning: OOC in AU-setting. May seem long in the beginning.

.-.

"Nanase-_kun_?"

Haruka looked up from his book. He was currently in bed, back against the headboard and sheets pulled half-way up his leg. It was a lazy Sunday morning and nothing felt better than to continue his reading of _Everything You Need to Know about Mackerel_.

"Izumi."

His wife of two years shyly blushed and lowered her gaze. "Breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat now?"

He hummed affirmative and moved from his position. His reading had to continue later. His wife was waiting and he must respond.

Breakfast was quiet, as per usual. Haruka wasn't a talkative person, his wife knew that. It must have been why she kept silence too; what a good little wife. Before their marriage, Izumi was a bright girl—a lady of intelligence and life.

She had many ideas and dreams in her mind; a career of excitement and achievements and exotic trips around the world. A romantic at heart, but a realistic in mind. She was graceful and soft, kind-hearted and selfless. She was the perfect daughter, granddaughter, sister. And now, she was the perfect wife.

Haruka often wondered just how much she had sacrificed for this marriage.

Then a distant voice asked him how much he had thrown away. But he ignored it.

All was in good hands. All would be clear and soon, he would know what would come next. He paused; schooling, a job and a wife. What _did_ come next?

"Nanase-_kun_," Izumi interrupted his thoughts, almost apologetically for having to break their silent affair, "Nanase-_kun_'s mother called late last night."

Haruka froze. His eyes didn't move to his wife's unsure gaze, instead locked onto his unfinished miso-soup. He knew what was coming, and he dreaded it.

"She...asked how we were doing. I responded we were doing great." Izumi's voice was filled with uncertainty. She used to be so confident before.

When Haruka gave no reply, Izumi continued, "a-and then, she asked if...if there was a possible grandchild."

Haruka slowly closed his eyes and exhaled. So this came next. A child, the last formula needed to create a family. This was his next step.

To be fair, he knew. It was already at the back of his head the moment the ceremony ended, the night when they entered their new apartment and consummated their marriage. He knew when he was engaged, when he was still a student in university. He knew since he turned fifteen.

The Plan was drilled into his head when his parents decided he was of mature age. Get good grades, quit swimming and graduate from a first-class university in a degree of engineering, computers, finance, medical, or law. In the process, find a suitable girlfriend; then get a high-salary job after school and start a family. Two or three kids preferred—one is too little and more than three is more than Haruka can handle.

Check, check, and check. He managed to maintain a high average and entered the University of Tokyo. He chose computers and ended up in a decent job at Sony Computer Entertainment. Through _omiai_, he met the most amazing girl and now they were on their way to start a family.

That was, Haruka was trying to.

The twenty-seven year old peeked over to his wife, frowning at her lowered head and quivering lips. It must have been hard on Izumi too, and it was not even her fault. So like a good husband should, Haruka raised his head and comforted her with a small smile.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured, both his wife and himself.

His parents wondered why, after two years now, Izumi was still not pregnant with their first child. Perhaps it was because they had ever been intimate in bed twelve times. He counted, he remembered; because every time, every _single_ time.

He felt sick. Before, during, and after sex. He tried _so_ hard, to find enjoyment, to feel pleasure; but it wasn't there, he was distant. Far-off, from where he should be. He made it his personal goal to satisfy Izumi, and she was. But he wasn't, he didn't allow himself to. Something stopped him, pulled him from doing anything that would allow him to take the next planned-step in life. He felt sick.

He felt _wrong_.

His body moved, his eyes saw. But his mind was somewhere else. In the dark, he thought. He didn't remember. He never really remembered what happened during sex. Just a little bit of foreplay, intercourse, and then ejaculation. But outside of her womb.

What was wrong with him.

That night, they tried again. It almost seemed like a chore for Haruka. It was his duty, his responsibility. Be the man, provide for your family. _Make_ a family. Fulfill the next step. The next Step.

Haruka blew out a breath and pulled out. Thank goodness Izumi was too pleasured to notice. He laid his forehead on her shoulder. Again, he didn't do it. He couldn't. He didn't _want_ to.

Rolling over, he gathered his wife in his arms, and tucked her under his chin. He kissed her head. He loved Izumi. She was amazing woman.

But he was still lost. He still didn't know what he was doing.

.-.

"You're already twenty-seven this year Haruka, it's past time for you to have a child."

Haruka let loose of his grip on the phone. He loved his parents, he missed them. But all they ever talked about, preached about, was this subject.

"I know."

"If you know, then how come you're not doing it? I don't know what's wrong with you. You are married two years now, and I'm sure Izumi is anxious too. She isn't getting any younger you know!"

Haruka kept silent. With a deadpanned face, he kept his gaze on the grey clouds outside.

"Women have difficulty giving birth after thirty-years of age. And you need to think about your second baby too!"

"It's your responsibility, be more engaging. Izumi's such a sweet child, don't let her go to waste! Reciprocate, do your job. Be the good husband we always taught you to be! Don't you love her?"

Haruka slammed the phone. The living room echoed its sound. Izumi wasn't home, and he was grateful for that. He really didn't wish his wife to see him like this—so enraged, so breathless, so _tired_ because he _was_. He was exhausted. From all of this.

He wanted to go somewhere else. An escape. He didn't want this. That. Anything.

The room suddenly echoed ringing of the phone. Haruka stared at it. He didn't move to answer it. He was too tired to. Because he could already hear it in his head.

_'Don't stray far from this.'_

_'Don't be that. You'll find nothing at the end.'_

_'You'll achieve nothing with it. There's no point.'_

_'She's a great girl. Don't let her go. Why haven't you gone out with her? What's wrong with her?'_

Haruka's chest heaved faster. He felt hot. His eyes blurred. His mind was swirling.

_'Don't make the same mistakes as we did. We know what's good for you.'_

_'Marriage is the ability to live together for the rest of your lives.'_

_'Persevere and you'll succeed. You'll make tons of money.'_

_'Hurry and graduate. Hurry and work. Hurry and marry. Hurry and have kids. Hurry and—'_

DIE.

Haruka jumped up. His eyes shut tight. Ears ringing, because the phone was still goddamned _ringing_. His breath heavy, his forehead perspiring, his hands and legs trembling. His body tense. He wanted to leave. He wanted out. But where could he go? This was his home now.

A name whispered in his mind, and his body relaxed one muscle.

That person would know. He could understand. He could make this go all away.

Without further thinking, Haruka grabbed his sweater and flew out the door. Did he lock it? He wasn't sure.

But he was sure that he didn't care enough to look back and check.

.-.

Tachibana Makoto wasn't expecting any visitors. He made sure his Sunday afternoons were reserved just for him to relax before Mondays come again.

So it surprised the twenty-eight year old when loud banging on the door disrupted his afternoon coffee break. It surprised him more when a familiar voice, broken and distressed, yelled from outside his apartment.

"Makoto! _Makoto!_"

The giant raced to open his door. And when he did, his best friend came crashing against him. His slender arms wrapped tightly around Makoto, body against his. It was the feeling of wetness and Haru's outcry that pulled Makoto out of his overwhelmed shock.

"H-Haru?"

The smaller man shook his head, and held on tighter. His broken sobs carved trenches in Makoto's heart. The organ was already scarred from two years ago, and now it was being deformed again.

There was no end to Haru's tears. His door was still wide open, but Makoto took no notice. He was paying attention to the male in front of him. Haru was always smaller than him, but he never looked so _frail_ like this before. So vulnerable, _broken_.

The fact that Haru was behaving so out of character, Makoto was over-the-top worried.

"Haru?" he asked gently, "did something happen? Where's Izumi-_chan_?"

"No!"

Haru tensed and shook against Makoto. He clamped his hands against his ears.

"Please...no. No more."

Makoto swallowed a lump down his throat. He himself couldn't take Haru's pleading. Giving a weak nod, he moved them to a more comfortable place.

It was early in the morning when Haru finally calmed down. The sun hasn't risen yet, but Makoto read 5AM on his digital clock. They were both nestled in his one-man futon—Haru against the wall, facing Makoto, with the latter laying an arm over Haru's small waist. Haru never rested his eyes closed. He was tired, Makoto could tell.

"Haru," Makoto murmured, "why don't you get some sleep?"

Haru's swollen ocean-blues glanced up. His neutral face revealed nothing, but Makoto could see his suffering.

"Makoto." His voice was dry and cracked from the earlier episode.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Makoto's enormous girth of a body stiffened. His ears rang from dead silence in the room. His heartbeat slowed. He stared at Haru.

"H-Haru?"

Said main gazed downwards. "I-I think so. I believe so."

Makoto took a deep breath. He would approach this slowly. "What makes you think that?"

"Not think. Know."

"Okay," Makoto offered a gentle smile. Haru must have been confused. A little lost. That's all.

"I...love Izumi."

There it was. Though Makoto couldn't deny the punch against his chest.

"But I don't _love_ her."

Makoto scrunched his eyebrows. For once in his life, he didn't understand Haru.

Haru looked up; this time, his eyes held certainty. "I don't want this. Anymore. I don't want Izumi, I don't want a child. I don't _want_ it!"

"B-but Haru! You've always wanted a family!"

Haruka sprang up. His punched his fast down on the sheets. "I _don't!_ I mean I do...just with you."

Makoto rose. With a quiet, small, so _uncertain_ voice, "Haru?"

"My parents wanted this love. My parents wanted this marriage, wanted Izumi. And now they want their grandchildren but I can't!"

Tears welled up. Haru's cheeks and eyes were already red and puffy from previous abuse.

"I can't do this, anymore." Haru lowered his head, his smooth hair creating a small curtain down. "A child would only make this more real."

And he didn't want any of this to be more real, Makoto realised. He finally understood. Nanase Haruka broke from his shell. He finally _saw_.

And that was why Makoto didn't object to this marriage. That was why all those years, he stayed back and watched, and supported Haru in whatever he chose. This was something only Haru can come to realise. And _then_, then Haru could see truth.

It wasn't that Haru didn't love Izumi; there was nothing to not love about the girl. But Makoto knew, he could never love her like how Makoto loved Haru.

Makoto pulled Haru in and down onto the sheets. He pulled him close. It was still dark out, still silent on the streets. His heart was calm, body unshaken, despite such a big confession from his best friend. Haru was still quivering; he still held uncertainty and fear within, Makoto was sure.

And so it was Makoto's turn to, again, support him. Make sure he didn't fall.

"Live with me. We'll figure out later what's going to happen."

.-.

Both of them took the day off. Neither had the energy, and mood, to perform adequately at work. They hadn't talked much after waking. They didn't feel the need to. Glances and gestures worked well before, and it worked now. It was back to their own world.

Haruka knew it was his wife when Makoto's doorbell rang. He gave the olive-haired man, who was cooking, a quick look before going to answer the door.

He wasn't surprised to see Izumi. But he was to see a large brown envelope stretched out towards him. He digested the small smile, hiding her remorse.

"How did I know you were here," she commented out loud. Izumi waited for Haruka to take the package, and bowed slightly when he did.

"Thank you, for taking care of me the last two years."

Haruka instantly knew what was in this. Guilt wrapped around his head, he was supposed to be the man and do this instead of the other way around.

"I'm sorry." He scolded himself internally for not saying it louder, with more responsibility to his tone.

"No, please don't be," she said. Izumi swept a lock of hair behind her ear. "You were such a caring husband to me. I couldn't ask for more."

That was a lie, Haruka yelled internally. Izumi deserved much better than this. He had wasted two precious years of her life. All because he didn't know himself.

He didn't notice Makoto coming up until Izumi changed her eyes to another direction. She pulled a brave smile and lowered her head.

"Please take care of him."

Makoto bowed deep from his waist. "I will," he swore, his voice clear and loud, "I promise with my life!"

Haruka bit his lip. Two lives, two loving people, bowing and apologizing, giving up and losing. For him.

"Then, I'll be going," her fake cheerfulness made Haruka cringe. All his fault, his fault. Izumi turned and walked away, but not before another reminder.

"Oh and, I get the apartment."

Haruka could only nod. He was amazed, at her courage and dignity, her ability to stay strong after such a loss. He saw her off from Makoto's apartment, noticing a hint of the old Izumi coming back. She'll be alright; she was a strong, respectable lady.

Makoto pulled him inside and closed the door. He swept Haruka around and launched his strong arms around him. Kisses planted, starting from Haruka's neck, up his jawline and finally, on his awaiting lips. Haruka opened with welcome. He grasped onto the soft material Makoto wore. He slanted his head and Makoto delved in deeper.

And this time, there was no holding back. No fear, no hesitation, no sickness, and no voice pulling his mind away.

Haruka felt _right_.

.-.

**A/N:** I've been taught since my adolescence years, that love isn't marriage. It may have been what started a marriage, but it will fade. I've been taught that marriage is the lifestyle where a bonded couple are able to live with each other for the rest of their lives (without going crazy). I think I lost my hope, or belief, in love during these years. My parents have been pushing me to find a boyfriend, for the _sake of marriage_. Because once I get old, there will be no hope for me. I'm twenty. I wish I still kept that romanticized dream of love.

So this one-shot is more personal for me. I broke down today the same way Haruka did. I know he is more OOC than should be. But I want to portray him as the 'perfect son' his parents could so proudly state to others, and then crumble down, all the while to realise that no, he's not the perfect 'normal' son, because he was gay and he loves Makoto. I wanted to write a parallel-universe connecting him and I. I'm not a lesbian, but that doesn't mean I'm always ready to go out, and date the next potential husband.

Hope you enjoyed it (without having a headache).


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